Every Word Wants To Be

A Man Can't Be Angry At His Own Time Without Suffering Some Damage.

Every Day There Comes A Moment When A Person Lays His Hands In His Lap And All His Busyness Collapses Like Ashes. The Work Accomplished Is, From The Soul's Point Of View, Entirely Imaginary.

I Also Believe That Few People Remain Completely Untouched By The Thought That Instead Of The Life They Lead There Might Also Be Another, Where All Actions Proceed From A Very Personal State Of Excitement. Where Actions Have Meanings, Not Just Causes. And Where A Person, To Use A Trivial Word, Is Happy, And Not Just Nervously Tormenting Himself.

... The Genius Never Makes Anything New, But Always Something That Is Just Different, And The Average Talents Provide Him The Possibility Within Which His Genius Condenses Into Achievements.

Mathematics Is The Bold Luxury Of Pure Reason, One Of The Few That Remain Today.